Bittersweet Hero
by BugzAroc
Summary: How he played Superman, stopping a speeding bullet. Only...he didn't use his chest and he didn't exactly walk away unscathed. In fact...he didn't walk away at all...Slash
1. Bittersweet Hero

**Title:** Bittersweet Hero

**Rating: **M for violence

**Summary: **How he played Superman, stopping a speeding bullet. Only...he didn't use his chest and he didn't exactly walk away unscathed. In fact...he didn't walk away at all.

**Warnings: **Slash.**  
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**Disclaimer:** I own nothing and no harm is meant, seriously people.

**Beta: **None, all mistakes are mine.

**A/N: No fucking clue where this one came from. Guess I should say that I know nothing about the town of West Newbury, Mass or any of John's brothers. **

**And when I say Jillian, yes I mean the one who tries to sing but sounds like a screeching cat.  
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John and Randy rolled into West Newbury, Mass a little after noon that Tuesday. It was a rare few days off for both men and John Sr. had insisted that they spend it with the family. A day or two in the sun with barbecue, football and beer. What more could a man ask for?

"So tell me again, why I agreed to this?" Randy mumbled from the passenger seat. He wasn't exactly happy about spending his days off with the entire Cena clan. We're talking about five other potential John's here, people. You feel his pain, right?

"Oh quit your bitching" John laughed. He was a kid in the candy store excited about going home. It'd been a little over two years since he'd gotten to see all his brothers at once. "It's not gonna be any different from a day out with some of the guys."

"Except for the fact that it'd be rude to tell your family to go fuck off when they start annoying me." Randy argued, kicking back his seat so he could lay down. "Plus, me and your dad aren't exactly on speaking terms in case you've forgotten and," Randy paused to make sure John was listening."There's no sex two nights cause dear ol' Johnny wants to stay at the family home." According to John, their_...extra curricular activities _might cause a bit of psychological damage to his family and Lord knows, we wouldn't want that now would we.

"It's all cruel and unusual punishment from where I'm sitting."

"First of all," John began as he got off I-95. Roughly, the boys had another thirty minutes before they'd reach the Cena home. "Don't you think it's kind of rude to tell anyone to go fuck off?"

Randy just shrugged, lacing his fingers behind his head.

John rolled his eyes, smiling to himself. How the hell he even put with Randy was still one of those unknown mysteries of the universe.

"Second, if you don't bring up the little punting incident then neither will he. Third-"

"I'm not worried about him bringing it up, I'm worried about payback." Randy retorted cutting John off. "How do I know this isn't some elaborate scheme to ambush and torture me until I start screaming like a little school girl?"

Not even a full second passed by before they both erupted in laughter, the image of Randy doing just that forever imprinted in both their minds.

"Over dramatic, much." John offered once he could breath again, cocking a brow at Randy's prone form.

"But back to what I was saying. It won't kill you to keep your hands to yourself for a few days."

"Maybe, maybe not. But your a real hard man to ignore, Johnny." Randy professed, cutting his slate eyes in John's direction. "And you know I'm not always accountable for my actions."

"Well, than how bout this. You keep your hands to yourself or that torture will come in the form of a 15 track cd. By Jillian." John countered with a smirk.

"My ears!" Randy growled, covering them with his hands. "Talk about cruel, that's for damn sure."

"Your call." John said in amusement. "You've been forewarned."

Randy didn't answer. He only glared at John for a second before slowly morphing that glare into a smirk. _We'll see_.

The next twenty minutes of the ride flew by in silence.

John wondered just how much had changed with his brothers. Sure they did the whole phone call and e-mail deal but there were just some things that you saved for face to face conversation. It was, you know, like an unwritten rule or something.

Randy on the other hand was a bit...apprehensive. Not scared, just...apprehensive. He'd never really spent that much time getting to know any of John's brothers. He really only knew their surface info, like what they were doing now, if they were married or had kids. Shit like that with maybe a few wacky childhood stories thrown into the mix. If John's brothers were anything like him, Randy was positive he'd be the butt of plenty of jokes before this 48 hour period was over. It was the types of jokes that worried him.

John's cell soon interrupted the comfortable silence. It was attached to the car charger but instead of turning on the speaker phone John asked Randy to answer it.

"Get that for me, will ya"

"Why can't you just use the speaker phone? You know, they invented those for a purpose." Randy queried, a little annoyed. He'd been on his way to dreamland.

"I'm tryna concentrate on the road." John insisted. "Unless you want us to end up in a ditch, answer the phone."

Randy reached for the phone mumbling under his breath. He answered it right before voice mail picked up.

"Hello"

"Hey Randy, my boy." John Sr. hollered, causing Randy to wince and jerk the phone away from his ear.

After his ear quit ringing, he asked, "Hey Mr. Cena. How are you?" Trying his best to keep his tone neutral.

"Doing fine, thank you. Just calling to make sure you boys hadn't gotten lost." The older man chuckled, causing Randy to roll his eyes, earning himself a punch in the arm from his lover.

"We're doing just fine, Mr. Cena" Randy assured, glaring at John. "We're about ten minutes out."

John nodded. They were just about to pass the little mom and pop shop he and his brothers always ended up at after school. The running joke back then was that the Cena money covered the payroll. Everybody else's was just extra profit.

"Ten minutes, good, good. Oh wait! Tell John to stop at that little store." Randy tapped John's thigh and pointed in the direction of the store, mouthing 'pull over'. "It seems I don't have as many hot dogs as I thought or any good beer according to Steve." John Sr. explained. "John will know which kind to buy."

John pulled into the parking lot, taking one of the spots next to the door. He waited while Randy made a bit more small talk with his father, passing along the hellos before saying good-bye

"What are we getting?" John asked as they got out the SUV. For it to be lunch time, there weren't too many other people around, he noticed. Only four other cars littered the parking lot.

"Your brother, Steve, wants better beer and your father ran out of hot dogs." Randy relayed as he opened the door, smirking at John. "Age before beauty"

John didn't verbally acknowledged the comment. He just flipped Randy the bird as he walked in.

"Johnny!"

Mrs. Gabriel squealed the moment they entered the shop. She shuffled over to the two men, wrapping her small arms around the thick waist of the older man. "Been a long time since you decided to visit little ol' us. Came in town last month and didn't even stop by." She chided the man as he kissed her cheek.

"Hey Mrs. Gabriel. You know I can't forget about you and Mr. Gabriel." John was all dimples as he took in the elderly lady's appearance. Even at the age of 65, she still didn't look a day over 40. High cheek bones, porcelain skin and hazel green eyes just as he remembered her. She did seem to be getting a bit slower, though that was to be expected in old age. "You all were like my second family"

"Don't I know it. You boys spent more time here than you did at home." Mrs. Gabriel reminded him.

"Oh, Harold will be happy to see ya. He just recently came across an old Torino but-" Her words died in her throat as she caught sight of the man standing behind John. A predator if she ever saw one.

John followed Mrs. G's somewhat frightened gaze, turning around to glance at his lover. Randy's face was expressionless, his grey-blue eyes narrowed as he examined his surroundings. He stood erect, exuding nothing but confidence and maybe a little something else. Something John couldn't quite place.

But he did know that if Mrs. G was scared of him now, it would not be wise to piss Randy off in her company. Wouldn't want to literally scare her to death.

"Mrs. Gabriel, this is my friend Randy." John said, finally breaking the awkward silence and introducing the two. "Randy, this is Mrs. Gabriel, my third grandma"

Randy tuned back into the conversation at the sound of his name. He cocked his head at the little lady, studying her. Her fear lit something inside him. He hadn't done anything yet and he could already tell she'd rather be anywhere then in his presence. Maybe Mass. wouldn't be so bad after all.

He smiled, stepping forward and extended his hand. "Hello, ma'am."

"Ra-..Randy is it." She extended her own and watched with slightly widened eyes as the young man bent to kiss the back of her hand. The perfect gentlemen.

"Nice...nice to meet you" She faltered, pulling back her hand and taking a step back. "Well, I'll just...just go get Harold." Smiling at John, Mrs. Gabriel cast one last weary glance Randy's way before taking off towards the back of the store.

John watched her for a moment before turning to stare at Randy. "What am I going to do with you?"

Randy ignored him for the moment in favor of looking around.

The shop hadn't changed much since John was a kid. Newer products but still the same old set up. Register lining the right wall as soon as you walked in. Of course the cigarettes were behind the counter. The cold cases were at the very back with six or so mini isles of food in front of them. Off to your left were the non-food items, like plates, magazines, and batteries to name a few. But John's favorite part of the store was still smack dab in the middle.

Candy. Loads and loads of candy displayed in a multilevel clear case for everyone to see. Gum, chocolate, hard candy, just about anything you could think of and most of it was either a penny or a nickel. Could that be the reason John _forgot _to stop by last month...

Randy slowly turned himself to face his lover, that _something_ John just couldn't figure out coming off him in waves.

He didn't feel right or...the air just didn't feel right. Tension was building but he couldn't tell from where.

A mother and daughter, a freckled, red headed little girl, seemed quite content browsing the dessert isle. The both of them humming a catchy little tune he thought he recognized. Maybe Train? He wasn't positive. Even the dark character scanning the rack of magazines didn't worry him too much. The only thing the kid seemed to be guilty of was wearing too much black. Black hair, shirt, pants, and shoes. Randy probably wasn't wrong in assuming the boy's socks and underwear were also the same lovely color.

These were the only other people in the store besides Mr. and Mrs. Gabriel yet Randy still felt irked. The balance was off somehow. The natural order of things was about to be royally fucked up, he could just feel it.

"Randy!"

John's voice filtered into his thoughts. He locked his troubled gaze on the other man's mildly annoyed gaze.

"Okay...Since you've clearly checked out, how about I go get the hot dogs and beer while you pick out a pack." Naturally, John would know he was out.

He nodded, ignoring the questioning look in his lover's eyes. Maybe his nerves were just getting to him. It had been a few days since his last cigarette.

John just shrugged. He'd get Randy to talk later on.

He walked back towards the cold cases, offering a smile to the little girl as he passed. She returned it, her own dimples making themselves known.

After grabbing what he needed, he felt his phone vibrating in his pocket. Taking it out he continued walking.

A text message from Sean.

_Don't forget the candy, J. You know you want some!_

_Jackass_, John chuckled to himself. Even if he brought the candy, he'd most likely never taste any of it. His brothers just loved to remind John about his strict diet. And by remind, I mean tease.

Since he wasn't looking where he was going, he never saw the blond paused in the middle of the isle with his back to him.

"Oops! Sorry man" John apologized as he reached out to steady the other man. "Didn't see ya there"

"No...no problem." The blond stuttered turning around, shooting John a funny smile. Not _'haha'_ funny, by the way, if that made any sense.

But once again, John just shrugged. Brushing it off as his own overactive imagination. Really, he was too distracted with the day's plans to care all that much.

Both men made their way to the front. John stopping next to the candy while Mr. Funny made his way towards the door stopping just short of leaving to read the bulletins posted in the front window. He kept fidgeting with the pocket of the coat he was carrying.

"Johnny, my boy!" Mr. Gabriel called when he spotted him. The white haired man leaned heavily on his cane as he limped over to John. "There's our champ."

Randy, who had actually been making small talk with Mrs. Gabriel, caught the movement of Mr. Funny out of the corner of his eye and tensed.

_Wait a second..._

Randy hadn't heard the door open so where the hell had this blond fucker come from? And he was positive he hadn't seen him down any of the isles when he scanned them so where had the guy been hiding and why?

Mrs. Gabriel noticed the change in the young man and stopped talking. His eyes were looking right at her but she could tell he wasn't seeing her anymore. She looked around but couldn't pin point what would have suddenly put that cold, guarded expression on such a handsome face.

"Everything okay, Randy?" She asked, puzzled. He didn't answer though, just turned around and leaned against the counter.

For Randy, the tension he felt earlier came back in full force. Almost suffocating him with its intensity. Not just bad nerves, no. Alarms were going off like crazy in his head. But as he took in the blond's appearance he almost wondered if he might be finally losing it.

Cliché college snob was all he could think of. Khaki's, dress shoes, a button down shirt and a honest to god sweater tied around the boy's neck. He knew from his relationship with John that sometimes it was the goody-two-shoes who you needed to watch out for but he wasn't too sure this guy could cause much damage, if any.

However he was a little twitchy and that coat in his hands...

"Hey Randy, you want some?" John called, blissfully unaware of his lover's tormented state of mind.

Little red had joined him and Mr. Gabriel, all three of them sifting through the candy. Comparing favorites and what not while the two men talked shop on the side.

_It was just seconds._

Randy let his guard down to look over at John for just a _second_ and the blond fucker picked up on it, making his move. In a matter of _seconds_, everything had gone to hell in a hand basket.

"Everybody fucking freeze!"

Too scared, too unsure and too nervous to be a command. His first time and his last if Randy could just get that damn gun away from him. Even out his playing field a little.

He may have been a white boy but he knew better than to bring a knife to a gun fight, so to speak.

He never got the chance, though.

As the words and situation sank in, John did the exact opposite. Grabbing little red as she began to scream, he turned away from the man, shielding Mr. Gabriel also and sealing his fate.

Mr. Funny jerked the gun in their direction, more panic than anything else but pulled the trigger just the same. John's lower back the bull's eye, the bullet the dart. A perfect shot for such a frightened amateur.

Randy's heart skipped a beat at the sound of the gun firing and his breath caught in his chest as the back of John's white t-shirt colored cherry red. He may have screamed _NO _aloud but almost every instinct he had was screaming for him to get his ass over to John. To check on his mate.

Instead, he listened to the one instinct that wasn't screaming at him to go over to John. The one that was screaming at him to go kill the poor fuck that caused John pain.

The kid had already dropped his gun and coat to the floor. But it never dawned on him to run. He was too shocked to move. Shocked that he actually shot another man. Scared shitless that he may have killed another man. Never did it even cross his mind, though, that it might not be jail in his future but a coffin.

Randy charged the blond, slamming him up against the window. He was snarling, his eyes clouded with rage while his left arm cut off the kid's airflow and his right hand balled into a tight fist. His whole body practically heaving with the sudden hatred he felt for this man.

"You fucking bastard" Randy seethed through clenched teeth. The kid's hands were raised in front of him as if that was going to stop Randy from breaking every bone in his face, before he moved on to the rest of his body. His repeated mantra of _sorry_ and _please god, don't hurt me_ doing nothing to calm the storm brewing in the older man.

Fortunately, his common sense overpowered his caveman instincts and Mrs. Gabriel's voice cut through to him. An ambulance was on it's way.

He dropped the blond, ramming one of his steel toed boots into the kid's ribs before rushing over to John.

All the blood pooling around John's motionless body ripped his heart out. He took off his own shirt and balled it up so he could use it to apply pressure to the wound. He wasn't sure if it would help though. John was basically laying in a puddle of his own blood.

Little red and her mom were off to his left. Both of them sobbing and clinging to each other. Mrs. Gabriel's tears were soaking her husband's shirt as he looked on, a few wet streaks marring both his cheeks.

Randy soon felt his own vision blurring as the wailing of sirens became their background music.

* * *

John lay awake in his hospital bed, sleep somewhere off on strike it seemed. He stared out the window into a darkness that matched his current mood. His normally bright baby blues now a dull glassy shade of their former selves. The hot tears that streaked down his pale cheeks no longer caused by pain. More like the realization that life as he knew it was now over.

Oh sure, the newspapers would read, "John Cena: Hometown Hero". Their words would spin a glorious tale of how quickly he reacted in the face of danger. How he risked his own life in order to save the little red headed girl. How he played Superman, stopping a speeding bullet.

Only...he didn't use his chest and he didn't exactly walk away unscathed. In fact...he didn't walk away at all.

John took a deep breath, his bottom lip quivering a bit as he thought back over yesterday's events. What should have been an afternoon filled with fun, jokes and a whole lotta shit-talking with the family turned into a nightmare before the festivities could even begin.

One bittersweet homecoming for the champ.

He slowly raised the head of his bed, thanking god that he didn't have a noisy one cause he sure as hell didn't want to wake anyone. That would mean talking about what happened, what he'd been thinking at that time or about how he was feeling now. And to be perfectly honest, he felt like Randy right about now. The world could go fuck itself for all he cared.

The bullet hadn't touched his spinal cord exactly but it did shatter a few of his lower vertebrae. The bits of broken bone were what severed a few of the vital nerves leading to his lower half. The extent of the damage wasn't fully know yet. The doctors were optimistic that John would still have function below the waist to some degree. But if the present moment was any indication, John couldn't feel shit. His legs could send all the signals they wanted, his brain was not going to receive any of their messages.

He kind of felt sick to his stomach. Probably a mixture of that antiseptic smell, all the fucking meds they had him hyped up on and his own despair. Whether he had function to some degree or not didn't really matter. What was clear was that he'd never have all his function below the waist and that meant bye-bye to what he loved doing the most.

His room was filled with his family. An extra futon had been brought in since they all pretty much flat out refused to leave John's side until it was time for him to leave the hospital. Dan and Steve occupied one while Matt and Sean took the other one. His father was slumped over in the chair to his left, no doubt building a crook in his neck for him to complain about in the morning.

When he looked to his right, he'd expected Randy to be there but hadn't expected to be Randy's own private show. Hadn't expected a pair of steel blue eyes to be staring back at him so intently. _Guess he hadn't been as quiet as he thought._

They played that old childhood game for a minute or two, neither one of them saying anything, just staring. Waiting for each other to blink or speak first. To break the spell.

Of course John didn't stand a chance against the viper. His whole gimmick depended on him being able to stare down and intimidate his victims. Scare them into submission or keep their eyes focused on his hypnotic gaze so they never saw the attack coming.

This time though, Randy was just openly staring. Never one to wear his heart on his sleeve, John could still tell that he was concerned. The slight crease in his forehead and the grim set to his mouth, saying more than Randy hoped.

John closed his eyes after a minute or so, admitting defeat. When he opened them a few seconds later, Randy had repositioned himself. His arms were resting on the bedside railing with his head resting on his arms. His features had soften a bit.

"And the champ lives." Randy joked quietly, trying to lighten the mood a little. "First a fucked up neck and now a bullet. I do believe your track record has officially become worse than mine, Mr. Cena"

John couldn't help the small smile that broke. Randy was always gonna be an asshole, no matter what the situation consisted of.

"Yeah well-" John croaked, throat still raw from the tube that was shoved down it until a couple of hours ago. He swallowed a few times trying to wet his throat enough to ask for some water but the younger man beat him to it.

Randy reached over and picked up the cup of water off the bedside table. He bent the straw and held the cup out to John, watching as his chapped lips closed around the red straw. His eyes then found John's adam's apple, watching as it bobbed up and down each time the older man swallowed.

When John had his fill, Randy set the cup back on the table, nodding at the whispered thanks. He turned back to John as the man struggled to make himself comfortable, legs offering him no cooperation whatsoever. He stood, reaching out to help but stopped short when John snapped at him.

"Don't!" It was a soft yet harsh command. "I can do it my damn self."

Randy held up his hands, showing he meant to harm. He completely understood the man's frustration. Sitting back down he continued to watch until John finally gave up, slamming his fists down onto the bed. A sweat had broken out on his brow.

"Bullshit, pure bullshit" John hissed, no longer caring if he woke everyone else. "If she hadn't screamed-"

"Siobhan" Randy interjected.

"Wha-"

"Little red. Her name is Siobhan." Randy informed him calmly. "They came to visit early this morning while you were still out of it." He explained at John's baffled look. "Riley, her mother, she couldn't stop thanking your father." Randy's smile was sad. "If you hadn't risked your life-"

"That's just it." John argued, face slowly turning red. "I didn't do anything extraordinary and that blond fuck just got a lucky shot off. You could tell he barely knew how to hold the damn gun let alone shoot it."

"Which made him all the more dangerous." Randy kept his tone low and soothing, trying his best to placate his irate lover without losing his own cool. "That bullet could have gone anywhere, John. It could have-" He cut off, refusing to imagine all that blood pooling around John's head instead of at his hips.

Randy sat back in his chair, scrubbing his hands over his face. This was all too much, too close of a call for his liking. Even when John had messed up his neck, Randy couldn't remember feeling like this. He couldn't remember his life with John flashing before his eyes like that would be the last time he saw him alive. Couldn't remember the carefully erected walls surrounding his heart crumbling down. Hell, he couldn't even remember the last time he'd cried in front of someone who wasn't his mother or John.

Taking a second to compose himself, Randy let go of a heavy sigh. He looked back at John and for the first time in a long time, he couldn't read the expression written across the older man's face. Something about it though, tightened a few knots in his gut.

"The bullet could have gone elsewhere, but it didn't. There's a good chance you'll still have some control over your lower half and with therapy we can-"

"There's no we" It was just a whisper. So quiet, Randy wasn't quite sure he heard it in the first place. Leaning forward, he studied the side of John's face.

"I...I didn't hear you, or at least not correctly"

"There's. No. _We_." John spoke slower this time, putting a little extra emphasis on the last word. He could feel Randy's gaze boring into the side of his head but didn't turn to look at the younger man.

In his mind he had it all worked out. Randy was going to walk out on him in the end anyways, might as well get it over with now.

Randy cocked his head. _What in the hell..._

"Excuse me, but you can't be saying what I think your saying"

"Oh please, Randy." John looked up at him, not even bothering to cover up the uncertainty, the fear. "Just spare me, please. Save your pity, your sympathy or whatever the hell you wanna call it. We both know you won't be sticking around long."

Randy narrowed his eyes, his blood beginning to boil.

"Nope" He shook his head. "Didn't know that. Enlighten me some more, Johnny."

John let loose a mirthless chuckle, shaking his head. "You really want to stick around for the pity party that will become my life. Listen to me bitch and moan about therapy and about how un-fucking-fair life is. You really want to take on the responsibility to help me do even the most mundane things. Showering, getting dressed, hell I can't even going to the bathroom by myself anymore, Randy."

John closed his eyes, biting the inside of his cheek to stop the next sentence. It was right there, on the tip of his tongue. His biggest fear.

Screw someone having to take care of him, he was just afraid of Randy going out and finding someone else. Someone younger and better looking, someone not paralyzed from the waist down who could return his pleasure.

Sad and pathetic but not at all that far fetched in his mind.

"You really want to take care of me, cause I sure as hell don't wanna have to depend on you or anyone else for that matter."

Randy didn't say anything for the first few minutes. A silence settled in as he let John's words sink in, his mind filling in the blanks. Everything the other man was too scared to say or wasn't sure he had the right to say. John looked so fragile laying there, eyes closed, age clearly showing due to all the stress his body was under. His skin was just starting to regain it's color, no longer was he as white as Sheamus.

Randy leaned back over the railing, reaching out his left hand to caress John's. Careful not to disturb the I.V. He felt the man tense but continued his actions.

"John." He waited until his favorite baby blue's appeared.

"We've known each other for what, ten years? The last two of those on an intimate level. We've been through a hell of a lot together. Seen each other at our bests and our worsts. Probably wanted to take each others heads off on more than one occasion."

Neither could help cracking a small smirk.

"But your friendship and love mean everything to me, John. There is no way in hell I am going to abandon you when you need me most. No way in hell, I'm going to walk away and let you deal with this 'bullshit', as you so elegantly put it, on your own." It felt a little weird having the tables turned. Randy having to pacify John's temper and fears. Normally John was the one picking up the broken glass after Randy broke another car window. It was weird, but good weird.

"Your stuck with me, Johnny my boy. Plus," Randy paused licking his lips. "There's not another person alive I'd willingly submit to."

At Randy's words, John's eyes flickered. That good ol' ball of lust coiling itself, bringing about a heat he wasn't sure he really felt or if it was just his mind playing tricks on him. Better look into that later on, in the privacy of their own home. There had to be something out there to...help him if he no longer had control over that certain function. But his fears were allayed for now.

The light that had returned to John's eyes dimmed a bit as another problem pushed it's way back to the forefront of his mind. His career.

"I'll have to find something else to do, since wrestling is without a doubt out of the question." John sighed heavily.

Randy squeezed John's hand. He knew how much the older man loved what they did. The physical aspect of it, the performance, the fans. God knows they were going to have a tough road ahead of them, with John coming to terms with everything. Depression was probably going to be a constant in the near future for a little while, much to John's chagrin. But like Randy said, there was no way in hell he was going anywhere.

Vince and the guys already knew, most of them making plans to come visit John tomorrow. Randy had called them as soon as they arrived at the hospital. Well okay, after he finished threatening bodily harm to the nurses and doctor's alike, even though he knew ultimately they could only do so much.

Somehow the fans would have to be told, but right now Randy wasn't going to think about that or let John worry. Vince promised he would handle everything on that end of the court so could take each day, one at a time. Problems and complications, the same way.

"Yeah, that or you could play the perfect housewife." Randy smirked, ignoring John's outraged look. "I'm sure you'll adapt enough to have dinner waiting for me when I get home after working so hard. Along with a hot bath and a kiss at the door."

"Fuck you" John laughed. The sound music to Randy's ears as he joined in, those dimples a sight he never knew he loved so much.

"Just offering an option."

John just shook his head, continuing to laugh. No, his life would never be the same again but Randy always would be. And believe it or not, that really was a good thing.

"You two through with the mushy talk, yet"

Sean's voice had them both whipping their heads in the direction of the futon's, finding all four of John's brothers awake and cheesing like they knew the biggest secret.

"Yeah, I seriously thought I was going to throw up listening to the two of you." Matt quipped.

John and Randy both flipped them the bird, lowering the room's maturity level even more.

"Hey now boys, calm down." John Sr. grunted in his sleep, causing them all to explode with laughter. Though they tried their best to stifle it.

Randy cocked a questioning brow, but Dan shook his head smiling.

"Welcome to the family, Randy."

"Yeah." John echoed his older brother, grinning. He squeezed Randy's hand once. "Welcome."


	2. Accidentally Damaged?

**Title: **Accidentally Damaged?**  
**

**Rating: **T

**Summary: **"Alright superman," Cody joked as he pulled a newspaper out of the bag he was carrying. "How much of this here inked paper is true?"

**Warnings: **None**  
**

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing and no harm is meant. Seriously people, this is _**FICTION**_.

**Beta: **None, all mistakes are mine.

**A/N: So umm...took me long enough but here's part two for those who thought I should continue. Not sure exactly where this is headed so if you'd like to offer an opinion or two, feel free.****  
**

* * *

Randy lightly traced designs up and down John's arm. Just random symbols, words or whatever came to his mind. Basically he just need contact, needed to touch the sleeping man in someway.

He was leaning back over the bed railing, the same position he'd been in a few hours ago when John had been awake. Only this time, his left arm alone supported his head.

After their little talk, brothers included, Randy hadn't gone back to sleep. He couldn't explain it but he had just felt this strong urge to watch John. Like the machines and monitors wouldn't be enough to assure him his lover was okay. Damaged, but okay.

It had taken some heavy persuading but he'd succeeded in getting John Sr. and his boys to go on home. Telling them to freshen up and maybe catch a few z's in a more comfortable horizontal position. Randy had promised he would call as soon as possible if anything changed, the only condition being that this afternoon he'd have to do the same.

The clock on the wall told him it was 5:30 a.m., Thursday morning. Officially day two since that blond bastard had tried to rob Mr. and Mrs. Gabriel's shop, _'accidentally' _shooting John.

_Accidentally, yeah the fuck right, _Randy thought. _If that was an accident then he was king of the fucking world. _

Whether or not the kid had been _startled_ into shooting was still up for debate but as far as Randy was concerned, he did shoot and that was more than enough to condemn him in Randy's book. No more details, judge nor jury needed.

Randy's finger stopped mid-trace, disrupting his own name as he closed his eyes, trying to reroute his thoughts. That dark road would only wet his appetite for worse things to come or land him behind bars if he wasn't careful. Besides, the decision wasn't up to him. So he thought.

The rest of his name remained unfinished as he went back to just staring at John. He took note of how high his chest rose before falling as the older man breathed. It seemed John's breathing was more shallow and more frequent than Randy remembered. Normally he only took seven or eight breaths a minute while he was sleeping but this morning he was taking around twelve to fourteen breaths per minute. Randy chalked it up to trauma but didn't dismiss his worry completely.

Though he was trying to fight it himself, Randy could feel his eyelids getting heavier. No one was meant to go without sleep and he was already pushing his body towards 48 straight hours sans sleep, just seven hours short. His body was starting to fight back, ignoring his brain's signals to stay awake. Total shutdown was probably only about a minute away.

He pushed away from the bed railing slouching back in his chair. Crossing his arms over his chest, Randy's eyes were just beginning to close when John started to move.

His forehead wrinkled for a second like it usually did when he was in deep thought.

Randy tensed but waited.

It wasn't until John's whole face suddenly contorted as if he was in major pain, that he moved.

"John?"

Randy quickly sat up, reaching out once again for John's arm. The broken whimper that escaped the older man's lips next had him changing tactics.

He bypassed his arm, instead gently stroking John's cheek, softly whispering sweet nothings trying to calm him. It took a few moments but the man gradually stilled. He didn't wake but slowly drifted back off to sleep, whatever that was bothering him now gone.

Randy caressed his cheek a few more times before leaning over and kissing John's forehead. He settled back in his chair, content to let his eyes close now that John's discomfort had passed.

"Are you his lover?"

The female voice startled Randy. He turned his head in the direction of the door to find one of the night nurses staring at him. Something akin to admiration in her chocolate brown eyes. Randy hadn't even heard her come in the room. Hadn't even been aware that his little display of affection bore a witness.

He didn't respond right away, just sized her up from a distance. Her badge was hidden by her hair but if Randy remembered correctly, her name was Ethel. She was a grey-haired 42 year old mother of six who'd been through all kinds of hell and high water but still believed there was a golden heart beneath everyone's facade.

She seemed nice enough that Randy wanted to peg her as harmless but...well, you understand his hesitation, right? Plus he was all for believing that there were still some good people in this world but her life's motto seemed a tad too naive for his taste.

"Excuse me?"

Mrs. Ethel just gave Randy a warm smile, moving further into the room as she did. She checked over John's chart making sure the numbers looked accordingly, nothing too high or too low for his condition. His I.V.'s had been changed a little over an hour ago so she just checked to make sure they were still attached to him and that the fluids was flowing at the right pace.

Randy's cool gaze clocked her every move. The tension he'd set about the air meant to intimidate but had no affect on her. After twenty years dealing with some ungrateful doctors, patients in denial plus their scared, irate family members; one overprotective lover was at the bottom of the list when it came to breaking down her nerves.

She ended her check-up and shift by changing out John's catheter and bag. Once she had them replaced without waking her patient, Mrs. Ethel quietly washed her hands before turning her full attention back to the tanned young man.

His guarded expression didn't phase her, only brought about another warm smile.

"He calmed at your touch" She offered as explanation. "In all my years, I've only seen a parent or spouse able to soothe so quickly with little more than their presence." She added.

Silence ensued but Randy held her gaze. He scanned her face carefully, looking for any sign that his answer would cause an unwanted reaction. The last thing he needed right now was someone shoving the _gays are sinners_ speech down his throat or someone trying to blackmail him or John for that matter. Though that last concern was probably something to worry about with the younger nurses. They were then one's who got all dreamy eyed when they came in to check on John, not Mrs. Ethel.

After a few more seconds with no response, she gave a small nod before making her way towards the door. She completely understood his hesitation but..._no answer was an answer too_. Her hand had just enclosed the doorknob when she heard a soft, but deep voice.

"Two years."

She turned back around but the younger man's loving gaze was fixed on his partner.

"Ten years in all but only...only two together." Randy tore his eyes away from John for just a moment. Swallowing, he flicked a quick glance Mrs. Ethel's way. The smile never left her face, if anything it only got bigger. Feeling himself relax a little, he half returned it.

The door was closed quietly as Randy turned his attention back to his lover. The clock read 6:15 a.m. as he settled back in his chair. Maybe it was his mind playing tricks on him since he was so tired but Randy could have sworn right before his eyes closed completely John's right leg lifted up just a bit. Enough for his knee to make an impression in the cover, maybe...

**Cena's Viper**

"Good afternoon, John. How ya feeling?"

It was just a little after noon before Dr. Morgan was able to make it to John's room, a small crises a few doors down had required most of his attention that morning.

"Well doc, as you can imagine, I've definitely had better days." John replied. He used the railing to pull himself up just a little straighter, his legs didn't exactly feel like the same dead weight from last night but they still weren't co-operating.

"Any trouble sleeping last night, any aches or pains that wouldn't go away?" Dr. Morgan asked as he did a once over of his chart. He noted that John's blood pressure was still slightly higher than he would have liked but everything else seemed fine.

John shook his head, chuckling. "Nope, pretty much slept like a baby once I'd fallen asleep." Of course he didn't remember his small discomfort.

Nodding his head, Dr. Morgan placed John's chart back in it's slot. He placed his hands in his coat pockets and took a moment to look around at John's father and brothers. He was stalling, not really sure if he wanted to ask about his legs. Though he knew they'd done all they could do, he still wasn't quite sure the now absent younger man wouldn't try and make good on his threats.

Taking a small breath, he went ahead and bit the bullet, so to speak.

"And what about your legs. Any feeling at all, whether pain, a tingling sensation or maybe numbness."

Again, John shook his head, sighing. "No...nothing at all." Randy had already asked these questions before he left that morning.

They had eaten breakfast, or rather Randy had complained about the hospital food, then the Orton interrogation had begun. John gave the doctor the same answer's he'd given Randy. Unfortunately, nothing had changed in the short span of those few hours.

The only difference between last night and today was that he felt a little less panicky. Now whether this was a good thing or bad thing, he'd just have to wait to find out.

Dr. Morgan gave another small nod, he was just opening his mouth to speak but John Sr. beat him to the punch.

"Doctor," Mr. Cena paused for a second, looking towards his son. "Where exactly do we go from here?"

John couldn't help but smile at the use of the word '_we_'. No, he hadn't thought his family would abandon him but it still felt good hearing his dad say they wouldn't. There was however still a small bit of guilt eating at his conscience for accusing Randy. If he couldn't count his lover as part of his family then who could he?

"I..I mean in terms of therapy, medication if need be and a...a possible outcome to all this." Mr. Cena finished.

"Most importantly," John chimed in with a grin. "When the hell can I get out of here?"

Whatever tension that was been building in the room due to uncertainty quickly dissolved when everyone started laughing. Far be from John to let his humor die so easily even under these circumstances.

Dr. Morgan waited until everyone had calmed down and all eyes were back on him. He cleared his throat once before continuing.

"You might not like me after this, John but you've got at least another week. Plus, today starts your therapy."

John groaned, letting his head drop back onto the bed, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Oh, come on. You're killing me here."

"Oh, quit cha whining, ya big baby." Steve teased, slapping him in the arm.

"We're not here to torture you, just to make sure you'll be able to take care of yourself once you go home." Dr. Morgan offered as a truce, humor lacing his tone. "Your physical therapist is Doctor Arthur Leonardo. He'll be here around 3 for your scheduled appointment, okay?"

"Yep, no problem." Matt cut John off. He just knew his older brother was about to sprout off some smart-ass remark.

The doctor wrote a few things down on John's chart before promising to come back around a little later on. As he walked out he couldn't help but shake his head and laugh as John called out after him.

"Thanks doc!"

Closing his eyes, John let a sigh escape as he leaned back completely. No one spoke as he listened to the sounds around him. The low hum of the machines monitoring his heart rate, the hussle and bussel outside his room, the Hyneman from Mythbusters on tv, plus everyone's breathing. Not surprisingly, John was the loudest of them all. He could feel everybody's eyes on him and though he never shied away from being the center of attention, he wasn't sure how much longer he could take being the star of this here show.

"You alright, bro?" Sean reached out, momentarily forgetting why they were even in the hospital, and touched John's knee. If anyone was expecting the contact to be registered, they were sorely disappointed when after a few seconds, John remained silent.

He swallowed a few times before slowly opening his eyes. The smile he prepared faltered a little when he realized Sean was touching him. He hadn't felt anything, no pressure, not the slightest bit of weight, nothing.

Though he was quick to compose himself, his eyes continued to betray him. The fear, self-doubt, and worry darkening his baby blues just so.

"Yeah man, just...I'm just a little tired, ya know."

Sean nodded, deciding not to push his luck. He slowly let his hand slip from his brother's knee before it returned to tightly gripping the bed railing.

John once again closed his eyes, this time against the emotional pain. He was pretty sure that if he were to look around the room, Sean's troubled expression would be mirrored on the rest of his family's faces. That bothered him.

He was never the type of guy to just sit back and let things happen on their own. He liked to have things planned out in advance, hell, you could ask any of the guys in the locker room and they'd tell you he was the 'go to man'. If anyone was ever bored out of their freaking mind while they were on the road, their best bet was to find John. He always had an idea, was always moving around, always doing _something._

Now though, that wasn't the case. He _didn't_ know whether or not he'd be able to walk again, _didn't _know whether or not he'd gain any feeling at all back in his legs, _didn't _know what he was going to be doing tomorrow let alone an hour from now. It was completely out of his hands and you can bet your bottom dollar that scared the living shit out of him.

If not for his father's voice cutting through his tirade of negative thoughts, John wasn't sure where his mind would have taken him.

"Alright son, it's almost one so how about we let you get a little sleep before your date with the therapist." John Sr. could tell by the way his son's face tensed up that his thoughts were less than kosher. Better to nip them in the bud now than to let them blossom into a problem later.

John took the hits upside his head from his brothers in stride, laughing and shoving Matt away when he suggested that John could pass a few of the nurses' numbers his way. He mouthed _fucker _once their father turned towards the door receiving a pretty little bird in response.

Before Mr. Cena could reach the door, it opened.

"Johnny!"

Cody announced the arrival of friends as Ted, Evan, and Morrison filed in after him.

Of course John couldn't stop the dimples from appearing. He used the railings to pull himself up again, face split in a massive grin, almost like a kid in a candy store. It was pretty safe to assume that sleep had just been pushed aside for at least another twelve hours or so.

"Wait a minute, shouldn't you guys be on your way to St. Louis?"

"Oh come on John, really?" Evan asked, feigning hurt.

"Why in the hell would we be in Missouri when your hurt here in Mass.?" Cody finished as they surrounded John's bed. As soon as Randy had called, everyone who could, tossed all plans of heading to St. Louis early in favor of going to see John. The WWE was one massive family, so it only made sense that when one of their own was hurt, they'd go support him or her.

"Adam, Matt and Rey are here too." Ted added. "Matt called a few minutes ago and said they were close."

John was so fucking happy at the moment he wouldn't have cared if Vince came to visit him. He honestly hadn't expected to see the guys until next week, since they'd be in the area for the next show. With this being one of those few times when RAW and Smackdown were in the same state, it didn't surprise him to hear that Matt and Rey were on their way.

"So, where's your playmate?" Morrison asked once he noticed Randy was missing.

"He went for a walk about an hour ago." Dan answered for John. "I'll go find him, I'm pretty sure he's had enough fresh air by now."

John waved as his family left, closing the door behind them.

"Alright superman," Cody joked as he pulled a newspaper out of the bag he was carrying. "How much of this here inked paper is true?"


	3. Tres

**Title: **Tres**  
**

**Rating: **T

**Summary: **Unveiled, a naked hatred was something he wasn't used to and didn't care to see again anytime soon.

**Warnings: **None**  
**

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing and no harm is meant. Seriously people, this is _**FICTION**_.

**Beta: **None, all mistakes are mine.

**A/N: Alright so yeah, this one just like the one before it is long over due. It seems that I underestimated what my freshman year in college would be like so this week, being thanksgiving break for me, is the first time I've actually been able to write anything. Without a doubt this has to bearing on the current story line on tv (which yes, I'm pissed about), so clear your mind and enjoy ya self.  
**

* * *

_"It might be your choice but it's my little brother's heart that's at stake here,"_

Dan's words were on constant repeat in his mind. It wasn't like he hadn't been expecting the talk, hell he figured it was only just a matter of hours before John's dad sought him out for their own little talk. He knew the Cena clan was a tight knit family but he just hadn't expected Dan to be quite so blunt.

_"I swear, Randy, think long and hard about what your about to get yourself into cause there are no options to change your mind after today."_

He hadn't expected the man who shared John's height though had more of a slimmer build to look him in the eyes, his blue so reminiscent of John's but glazed over with an emotion Randy wasn't at all that familiar with. It unsettled his stomach a little and made him take a closer look at the older man, made him listen very closely to the next few words spoken.

_"Unless the feelings mutual, don't let me get that phone call Randy, or dear God help me but your mother will receive your little black heart in the mail, the only part of you anyone will ever see again."_

Randy knew he had meant every word, knew behind all the good cheer the Cena's exuded there had to be some kind of dark beast just waiting to be released. It just wasn't natural to be that happy without some kind of release for the other emotions.

Dan's tone hadn't held any hint of malice, though. In fact it had been completely devoid of any emotion just cold and even, sending a small chill down Randy's spine. There wasn't much he could have said at the time other than assure Dan he wasn't going anywhere. But to tell you the truth, he was kind of getting tired of having to explain his feelings. He wasn't cut out for this emotional shit.

Now as he walked down the busy hospital hallway, completely ignoring those around him, Randy realized the emotion Dan's baby blues had held for him.

Hatred.

Plain and simple in it's most purest form. He was always used to it being disguised behind fake smiles and false happiness with pats on the back meant to be knives. But unveiled, a naked hatred was something he wasn't used to and didn't care to see again anytime soon.

He waited for the elevator as he lost himself in his thoughts. His movements on autopilot as he pushed the _8_ for John's floor and situated himself in the corner with his head down and hands shoved into his pockets as others piled on after him ensuring his ride to be a long one as the floors before his stop were called for.

He figured John had at least another week in this place until they declared him a free man. He would need to get used to the physical therapy and prove to Dr. Morgan that he could care for himself in the area's that mattered. The other area's, Randy and John's family would have to prove competent enough in.

They would probably also have to come to some agreement on other therapy sessions. A small grimace briefly passed his lips as he thought of trying to convince a stubborn John that he would need to talk to someone other than family and friends. Though they all loved the big man, that would be a problem when it came to him healing mentally. Guilt was going to eat away at him and he wasn't going to believe any of them when they told him it wasn't his fault, that he was okay and he would get better.

As his number lit up, Randy politely as he could made his way to front of the crowded elevator. He stepped off, taking a deep breath of stale hospital air to brace himself but instantly regretted it. The unfamiliar smell choking him up, his lungs refusing to complete of process of oxygen in, carbon dioxide out. Taking a few smaller breaths, Randy regained control as he continued his walk to room 819.

The fans were also another issue that needed to be addressed. Without a doubt they had all heard about the shooting, cause whether or not you read the newspaper, it was literally only just a matter of seconds before a few clicks could link you to whatever new juicy gossip that was out there. That being said, Vince wouldn't just be able to remove Super Cena from the story line and expect a whole Cenation to just ignore his absence. Something had to be said, questions had to be answered and fears had to be reign in before the rumors including John being on his death bed.

Randy smiled despite himself as he neared the room. Laughter could be heard even a few doors away, though that didn't surprise him since he'd gotten Cody's text about the guys having arrived earlier. The Cena's weren't the only tight knit clan.

Pushing open the door, Randy could do nothing to stop the cheesy grin that came across his face.

"No, no that's not at all how it happened!" John's face was flush with laughter and excitement as he cut off Adam's retelling of last year's Halloween party. Pushing himself up a bit more, he struggled to catch his breath as he defended his case.

None had realized they'd been joined by another so Randy quietly closed the door behind him and leaned against it.

"The only reason I ended up being a fairy was beca-"

"Oh come on now John," Cody cut him off tutting. "We all know who wears the pants in your relationship."

"What about you?" John shot back grinning madly as Matt and Adam doubled over, tears streaming down their cheeks they were laughing so hard. Evan, Rey and Morrison did their best to hide their laughter behind their hands as Ted stood from one of the sofa's he'd been sitting on. He wisely kept his face blank as he wrapped his arms around Cody offering comfort to his now blushing lover who was undoubtedly cursing John under his breath.

"It really doesn't matter why or how it happen," Matt said, his southern drawl more pronounced, "just know that I feel scarred for life after seeing John in that tutu."

"Nah man, remember the thong?" Rey supplied nudging Matt with his elbow

The mental picture that created was enough to send them all into fits of laughter again including Cody and Ted this time. Though Randy joined them, he made a mental note to find that picture. If it wasn't on his phone it had to be somewhere on his laptop.

Evan spotted him first, a softer grin breaking out as their eyes met. "Hey Randy"

Pushing away from the door, he made his way into the room, acknowledging everyone with a nod as he made a straight line for the older man's bed, deliberately ignoring Adam's smirk. The added color to John's cheeks effortlessly removed the years that had been added by stress from the past few days.

"Feeling better?" His left hand automatically found John's right giving it a gently squeeze.

"Yeah, though I can't wait till I can have this damn thing removed." John replied a second after catching his breath, speaking about the catheter. Adam's smirk worked it's way on over to Evan and Morrison's face.

For the next twenty minutes or so, they continued to talk about everything except John's legs. Cody and Ted's decision to move in together, Evan's recent push, Morrison's possible new love interest though he wasn't giving any names and whatever bullshit Adam, Matt and Rey had managed to get themselves into, it was a new trouble every day.

A soft knock at the door interrupted further conversation as John bid the newcomer enter.

A red-haired man of about his early forties stepped through the door with a pleasant smile and some equipment none of the guys had ever seen before.

"Hello, Mr. Cena," He set down his load on the table at the foot of John's bed as he introduced himself. "I'm Dr. Leonardo, your physical therapist."

Before John could respond to the doctor, Edge herded the guys out of the room claiming _"play time was over and john-john had to get down to business."_

After everyone but Randy had filed out, John turned his attention back to his therapist. Offering up a smile he was sure the other guys could tell didn't reach his eyes, John acquiesced to his fate. "Doc...Man, I know it could be worse but damn...never would I have imagined that I would have to learn to walk all over again." Chuckling a little, he looked down at the bedsheets, blinking away the sudden build up of tears hoping it went unnoticed.

"Guess...the sooner we start the sooner things can get back to normal, mainly me kicking the ass of whoever is going to get the title."

"Exactly!" Dr. Leonardo affirmed with a soft smile before turning his attention to the tanned younger man standing next to the bed. He'd taken the warnings in stride, disbelieving the accusations at first but now that he stood in the guy's presence, felt those cold grey eyes boring a hole straight through him, his face a mask of indifference, the tension in the room truly thick enough to cut through, he sent up a silent prayer.

Sensing the Doctors sudden unease, John gave the hand he still held a tight squeeze, warning the viper to back off and let the man do his job without fear of his life.

"Dr. Leo, this is my boy, Randy. Randy, this is Dr. Leo." The silent _"don't threaten him" _understood between the two lovers as Randy's lips curled into a little smile and he stepped forward offering his hand.

"Alright then." Hands were shaken though the tension was still hanging strong.

"I'll just check your vitals then we can begin. First times always the hardest just like with anything else but also it gets easier each time thereafter just like anything else." Informing John of this, Dr. Leo moved to his left side, jotting down a few things on his charts as he read the monitors.

John let go of a shaky breath. Now was the moment of truth. No, he wasn't expecting for all sensation to come rushing back and for him to be able to stand up five minutes into the session but he was hoping for some sort of miracle no matter how small. Just to be able to feel sore after the exercises would be a great start for John. That was a feeling John was familiar with. Soreness meant his muscles were performing, meant they were working in tandem to build themselves.

That was a good thing, right?

"Randy, son, if you will let down that railing on your side and help John sit up facing you with his legs hanging off the side of the bed, we'll get started." As Randy made quick work of the rail and helped John sit up without treating him like a lame individual, Dr. Leo lowered the bed as far down as it would go. He then moved over to John's right and sat down in the bedside chair, grasping the younger man's left leg which was probably bigger than both his arms put together.

"Do you feel anything below the waist whatsoever?"

"Everything goes numb around mid-thigh on my right side but I can't really feel anything on my left side." John explained, sparring a glance up at Randy. Though his face was blank, the fact that he was hiding his hands behind his back, his shoulders twitching slightly with the unseen movement of his hands was a dead give away of his nerves. John himself could feel sweat starting to bead up around the edge of his hairline.

Changing tactics, Dr. Leo switched his grip to John's right leg. "Alright John, on the count of three I want you to try and lift your right leg. Slowly but don't lean back on your hands, just use the muscles that you can feel." He waited until the younger man nodded before moving his hand down to where he was just holding John's leg up by his foot. "One...two..."

John drew in a deep breath, bracing himself for the worst. He had to lift his hands away from the bed to stop himself from leaning back or pushing up with them.

"Three..."

* * *

**A/N2: I can't promise anything but I'm hoping it won't take me another three months to get the next chapter up. Let me know if guys think I should continue or if I should just scrap it now and start something new. By the way, I'm aware that I owe a few stories to at least two people that I promised a while back, trust me I haven't forgotten! :)**


	4. Knockin' On Heaven's Door

**Title: **Knockin' On Heaven's Door**  
**

**Rating: **M for language

**Summary: **"John had a mild heart attack but a heart attack none the less and that's not something we like to take lightly. He'll need to stay in the hospital a little longer than scheduled."

**Warnings: **None**  
**

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing and no harm is meant. Seriously people, this is _**FICTION**_.

**Beta: **None, all mistakes are mine.

**A/N: Alright so several days passed when I had planned to update it, here is chapter 4. I've also come to realize that I'm wrong when it comes to the brother's ages and that Steven may actually the oldest Cena brother and not Dan. Since I don't know for sure and can't really change the story, for the sake of Bittersweet, Dan and Steven are going to trade ages, kay! **

**LOL, just read!**

* * *

_Changing tactics, Dr. Leo switched his grip to John's right leg. "Alright John, on the count of three I want you to try and lift your right leg. Slowly but don't lean back on your hands, just use the muscles that you can feel." He waited until the younger man nodded before moving his hand down to where he was just holding John's leg up by his foot. "One...two..."_

_John drew in a deep breath, bracing himself for the worst. He had to lift his hands away from the bed to stop himself from leaning back or pushing up with them._

_"Three..."_

If Randy wasn't there watching it for himself, he wouldn't have believed it.

"John...John..."

It wasn't anything spectacular, not like he lifted his leg up a couple feet or so but it was enough. John had enough strength to lift his right leg so that his thigh hovered above the bed by maybe an inch or two. Just enough so that John, Dr. Leo and Randy could all see the muscles above his knee contracting, working in tandem to complete the almost unthinkable task.

"Your fucking leg, John your le-"

"Shut the hell up, Orton" John's voice was strained under the pressure but his dimples were on display. He may have only been exerting muscle in his lower half but John could feel himself running out of breath, his chest tightening up as if he'd been running a marathon. He could also feel the beginnings of a headache coming on, his left eye starting to twitch just a little.

Dr. Leo had seen enough.

"Alright, John."

As a rush of breath left John's body and he slumped forward, Dr. Leo was there to make sure he didn't continue on forward and off the bed. Grinning as he looked up into the younger man's flushed face, his baby blues sparkling with pure, unadulterated joy, Dr. Leo was reminded of why he loved his job so much. Though he hadn't done anything but let the kid's body show off its amazing healing ability, the courage and determination that those few inches unleashed within the man was unbelievable.

"Joh-"

"Orton" The warning tone and glare John used on his friend had Dr. Leo chuckling. If the rest of this session turned out just as successful, he couldn't imagine the other guy living for very long.

When John continued to struggle to get air into his lungs, the happy moment from just a few minutes ago slowly disappeared.

"Mr. Cena,"

Dr. Leo glanced up at the monitors not liking the fact that the numbers were rising, slowly but rising none the less. "John, why don't you lay down for a minute or two." He struggled a little to get the bigger man onto his back but was grateful when Randy pushed him out of the way and man-handled John on back.

"Slow, deep, even breaths, Mr. Cena"

He had hoped getting the kid horizontal would make things easier on him but it seemed if anything, the position only made breathing harder. His heart rate and blood pressure were starting to increase at a faster rate and Dr. Leo knew it wouldn't be long before that insufferable beeping noise started, putting the kid's life in danger. He needed to get the situation under control before all hell broke loose.

"Can't...che-...chest hurts..." John's face was completely red now, his words coming out in strangled gasps. "Can't...breathe...doc". Reaching out blindly, a small part of his brain registered a firm grip coming into contact with his hand but the rest of him was completely out of it. His chest hurt like a mother fucker plus the light was causing him to feel nauseous.

For the second time that afternoon, Randy stared in disbelieve. Holding on to John's hand with both of his for dear life, he turned terrified eyes to the doctor, shouting. "What the hell is going on, what the fuck is wrong with him?"

Ignoring the younger man in favor of grabbing the oxygen mask, Dr. Leo tried to supply John with the oxygen his body so desperately needed. Calling on all his medical knowledge, he tried to think of any reason why this would have happened. Yes, John hadn't been active these past two days and his body had just gone through a traumatic event putting itself under dire amounts of stress but he was a healthy young man. Exercising and staying in shape were a major part of his life, had to be in order for him to do his job without adding unnecessary risks every time he stepped into the ring. This just didn't make sense.

"Nothings changing." The panic he could hear in Randy's voice was undoubtedly what he currently felt trying to creep its way into his conscious. "It's not helping, why isn't it helping?"

He honestly didn't know why it wasn't helping, it wasn't like John's throat had closed in on itself. The oxygen was going through his airway, it just wasn't making it to his lungs, or maybe...

*beep*beep*beep*beep*beeeeeeeeeeeeep*

"Shit. Randy, I need you to move...Randy,"

Dr. Leo quickly snapped his mouth shut, almost biting the tip of his tongue off at the expression written across the younger man's face when he turned to look at him. Fear, shock, helplessness, all those he had expected to see, it was what was hidden underneath all those that made him want to turn tail and run. Pride, medical license and reputation be damned.

He had just stepped into the spot Randy had moved out of when the door was slammed open by Dr. Morgan followed by three nurses.

"What the hell happened in here" Demanded Dr. Morgan as he reached the bed just as Dr. Leo ripped open John's shirt.

Shaking his head, Dr. Leo moved out of the way of the nurse because though he was required to be first-aid/CPR certified, with the dark shadow watching over their shoulders, it was probably best to let those who did this on a daily basis take over.

"Don't know. He'd raised his right leg a couple of inches but then couldn't control his breathing." He explained as he watched Nurse Ethel ready the defibrillator so they could try and shock John's heart into beating again since the manual CPR the other two nurses were performing was having no effect. "I laid him down and administered oxygen but it didn't help, his heart rate just continued to rise."

Nodding, Dr. Morgan turned to take the pads from nurse Ethel so he could place them on John's chest but stopped short when he finally noticed a familiar tattooed gentleman standing off in the corner of the room, watching them with his arms crossed over his chest. He tried unsuccessfully to block the unpleasant memory he'd come to associate with the man, absently shuddering.

"Dr. Leonardo, how about you take Randy on out to the waiting room, there's no real reason for him to be in here anymore." _Nor do I want him in here_, Dr. Morgan finished in his head, sparring the kid one last glance before he turned his attention back to the task at hand.

Dr. Leo paled a little at the request but nodded his head none the less, not trusting his voice as he swallowed several protests. He turned around to face the man in question, bracing himself for the worse just in case Randy decided he wanted to stay. "Randy, son. Why don't you come with me so we can give these guys enough room to perform their jobs."

It was a weak excuse considering to room was plenty big enough to hold an entire high school football team without disturbing Dr. Morgan and crew but it was all he could think off to say.

At first it seemed as if Randy was going to just ignore him when he made no move and said nothing, but then just as Dr. Leo turned back to Dr. Morgan for support, Randy let his arms drop to his side and took several steps toward the door.

He hoped this was a dream, hoped that he was soon going to wake up slumped over in that uncomfortable chair, listening to his lover calling the cows home with his snores. There was only one problem with his wish...he didn't remember going to sleep.

Randy could already feel it happening, his heart numbing itself over. Threats would be of no use to him now so instead of wasting breath Randy walked out, head down, cold grey eyes burning with unwelcome tears as the voices of Dr. Morgan and his nurses fading in the background.

He was vaguely aware of a hand resting on his lower back guiding him in the wrong direction if he was supposed to be going to the waiting room. He just didn't have it in him to protest, though. Maybe if he was lucky, they would drug him into a deep sleep. That would sure as hell be nice.

Randy was just so damn tired of all this emotional roller coaster shit. He could remember the damage depression could do to a person and didn't want to fall back within it's grip but...One minute John was okay and the next he was fucking flat-lining. Randy didn't see too many other options plus now he had to make a phone call.

"Wait...wait a minute"

If he hadn't been so consumed with his thoughts, Randy might have realized he had come to a stop and was actually sitting down in a chair but not one of those plastic uncomfortable one's that seemed to be a staple for each and every hospital waiting room. This room was clearly an office, with bookshelves lining every wall and desk off in the right corner. It also had the one quirky detail that set it apart from other offices, this doctor happened to be a huge fan of Garfield. The were pillows with the cat's face on it resting on the two couches and he probably wouldn't be wrong in assuming the pillow behind his back also held the cat's mug shot, plus all the other trinkets like a clock, paper weight and coffee mug even.

"I kind of figured you might want to be alone."

Dr. Leo had a love of Garfield.

Randy glanced over towards the door, staring blankly at a sheepish looking Dr. Morgan. He could feel the older man's nerves vibrating off him in waves, like he was waiting for approval or something. Randy was aware that he should say something so as not to appear rude, cause I mean the guy was giving up his office to a man who'd been a complete jackass to him but couldn't, his throat felt as dry as a desert.

When he didn't respond, Dr. Leo rushed to finish.

"Your welcome to stay in here as long as you want. I've got appointments until late tonight, so there's no rush. This office is just a floor below John's, room 721, in case your wondering." He added before turning around and closing the door behind himself, off to try and make another miracle happen. Sans another heart stopping after the fact, hopefully.

Garfield's big hand was just shy of confirming it 4 o'clock as Randy took one last look around before letting go of a heavy sigh and scrubbing his hands down over his face.

Dreading his next move, Randy pulled out his cell phone scanning his contacts for _Sean_, John's baby brother.

**Cena's Viper**

"Mr. Cena"

It should have been comical, calling for a _Mr. Cena _in a room full of them though one was out cold but Randy couldn't really find any humor in the situation.

Everyone was gathered around the head of John's bed, the man in question unaware of the big commotion that was happening because of him.

"So, Dr. Morgan, what...what happen?" John Sr. sounded dog tired, like he himself would collapse at any minute, but Randy knew better.

Randy knew he had taken the easy way out calling Sean and no one was happy about it especially not John Sr. The man might have said something about Randy not having big enough balls to call himself a man.

"Believe it or not, you can all relax. John is going to be fine." Dr. Morgan used this visit to do another check-up on the younger man though he was sure Nurse Ethel had just been in here before the end of her shift. "He apparently had a thrombus building in the veins of his left leg that broke loose and traveled to his hea-"

"Wait a second...a what?" John Sr. cut him off looking rather confused.

"A blood clot, dad."

"Yes, thank you Steven." Dr. Morgan put down his chart after jotting down a couple of notes and took out his stethoscope. "A thrombus is just a blood clot but I don't mean to make this seem like it was no big deal, cause you all sure as hell know it was. We gave him some Heparin about an hour ago to break up the clot and he should be fine now." He completed his job without waking his patient but with a skill and accuracy that only came with years and years of experience.

Replacing one of John's fluid I.V. drips, Dr. Morgan wasn't at all surprised at Dan's question.

"There's more, isn't there? Your hesitating about something."

Dr. Morgan felt the shift in the room's mood as he nodded, noticed through body language how the Cena clan went on the defense. He bought himself some time by trashing the old I.V. bag and quickly washing his hands. As he walked back to the bed, he felt himself beginning to sweat under the intense scrutiny of four pairs of worrisome baby blues. Randy and Sean were the only one's not staring at him. Sean was watching Randy who was watching John.

He sighed heavily before explaining, "John's fine _now_," He felt he really needed to stress that point."But the clot caused some blockage in one of the valves of his heart, essentially giving him a myoca-, excuse me, a heart attack."

"Essentially?...What the fu-" John Sr. bit his tongue, counting to ten first, then backwards to try and control his temper. He chuckle was mirthless and Dr. Morgan didn't miss how Dan took a small step closer to his father, boxing the man between himself and John's monitors. "Dr. Morgan, I'm not really in the mood for bullshit as I'm sure you understand so cut said bullshit. Quit beating around the bush and quit using fancy word play. Say what the hell you mean to say, Okay?"

At the change in the older man's tone, everyone's eyes were on Dr. Morgan, including John's though none knew it.

He swallowed hard before speaking, his eyes fixed over in Randy's general direction for some reason. It was like he could tell that both their heads were on the line.

"John had a mild heart attack but a heart attack none the less and that's not something we like to take lightly. He'll need to stay in the hospital a little longer than scheduled."

"How mu-" John croaked, his throat raw from one of those blasted tubes they'd shoved down it again. Before anyone could react though, Randy brought a styrofoam cup with a red bendy straw to John's chapped lips allowing him to drink his fill. It was a quiet moment, the only sound being John swallowing while John Sr. held his breath.

When John let go of the straw, Randy set the cup back down then gripped the railing tightly. He was itching to touch but didn't exactly know how John's dad would react. God, he felt like he was in high school.

"Hey Johnny boy, how ya feeling?"

The lazy grin John graced his baby brother with dissolved the knot building in their father's chest. It was almost instant, John Sr. relaxed and so did everyone else in the room.

"I'm alright, Sean." He spoke slowly, obviously still tired. "My head hurts like a bitch though. Plus what's this I hear about you extending my time."

"John" His father's warning was ignored as John turned to face his doctor.

Dr. Morgan grinned himself, "Well, it's Thursday today, so how does Wednesday, possibly next Thursday at the latest sound." He knew he should go over and do a quick once over now that John was awake but he figured he'd let the family have a moment to themselves and come back later after everyone had had time to calm down.

John groaned and closed his eyes causing everyone to laugh and Dr. Morgan decided now would be a good time to make his getaway, quietly slipping out of the room unnoticed.

As the laughter died down, everyone remained quiet not knowing whether or not John would want to go back to sleep since it was almost ten. The steady beeping of the monitors doing nothing to stop Randy from fidgeting. John's dad would probably want to have another talk with him but all he really wanted to do was slip away for long enough to call the guys back at the hotel and let them know John was okay.

"So who pissed who off?" John opened his eyes to take in what he assumed would be guilty looks on everyone's face but almost chocked on his spit in the process.

No one was looking at his face.

Oh no, the fact that John had just bent his left leg under the bed sheet while talking was a much more interesting sight and really...John was so fucking happy to agree.

**Cena's Viper**

"Ready to go Johnny boy?" Ron asked as he, Evan and Hardy entered the all too familiar room. It was Friday, official one week and one day since John had been shot and he was finally being released from the hospital. His condition had improved enough to satisfy his doctors though he had several scheduled check-ups coming up these next couple of weeks.

"Yeah, yeah." John couldn't keep that stupid grin off his face, not today, really not since last Friday morning. "Just give me a moment to go get changed out of this gown." He coaxed his legs off to the left side of his bed, then used every ounce of upper body strength he had to stand up, leaning against the walker. He didn't have to look up at his three friends to know they were just as fucking thrilled as he was.

Apparently, though the blood clot had caused his heart attack and almost killed him, it also gave him a little bit of his freedom back. The one that broke off wasn't the only clot building in his veins but when the Heparin dissolved them, blood flow was then able to return flowing through pathways that had previously been blocked. I'm pretty sure it's donned on you by now the significance of this development.

John's movements was slow and somewhat uncontrolled, though. Hell, therapy was slow and dammit painful. By the end of each session he'd been ready to call it fucking quits and live out the rest of his life in a wheelchair but practice had truly yielded progress. It was after Monday's session, technically his fourth if you count the disaster that was the first, when he discovered he could stand on his own. Not for long though by any means. It was somewhere around ten seconds before his knees had buckled, Randy right there to catch him and help him sit back down on the bed. But it was something, right?

He couldn't lift his feet very high and by the time he'd reached the bathroom door, he was more shuffling his feet than actually walking. Closing the door behind him, John leaned heavily against the counter for a second to catch his breath. Once that was under control he gripped the back of the toilet seat and carefully maneuvered himself around to where he was sitting down, his legs, particularly his right, throbbing but not with pain. It was more of a prickling and tickling sensation.

Hissing as his bare-ass came into contact with the freezing toilet seat, John cursed the open-back gowns. He weakly changed into his trademark jean-shorts, his old bright orange "Never Give Up" shirt and black kicks. Already feeling worn out but determined as hell, John once again hauled himself up onto his feet. It took a moment for the nauseous feeling at the sudden elevation change to pass but once it was gone, John was all set.

"Ready, boys." He announced as he slowly, carefully made his way back into the room. If anyone noticed how his grin turned into the full fledged 1000 watt, dimpled smile when his eyes picked up on the wheelchair, no one called him on it. Sweat had broken out on his brow and he could feel his right foot beginning to drag plus his arms weren't exactly suffering majority of his body weight in silence, either.

"Just standard hospital policy, Mr. Cena." The petite, red-haired nurse informed him with a genuine smile. If he wasn't completely crazy just yet, he thought he might have remembered her telling him her name was Torrin. "Once your outside the hospital, you can go back to being on your own too feet again."

"Uh huh."

John let himself fall back heavily into the chair, officially exhausted after the short walk from the bathroom. He sent up a silent prayer of thanks when his boys took over, Ron taking up Nurse Torrin's position pushing the chair while Evan moved his walker and bless his heart but Matt picked up his dead weight legs and place his shoes on the foot rests.

"Thanks guys." He was already half-way asleep, his tone heavy and lethargic.

"No problem, man. Let's just get you home." Ron whispered as he began to push the younger man out of his room followed by the other two and Nurse Torrin. John was dreaming about a certain tall, tattooed and grey eyed man before the elevator doors even closed.

**Cena's Viper**

Dan and Randy walked through the glass doors to the police station in silence.

Barely five minutes after Ron and the guys had left to retrieve John, Randy had gotten a call from a Detective Broadman asking him if they could meet up. It hadn't taken more than one glance at his face to know something was up and John Sr. was insisting that Dan accompany Randy. He didn't even argue.

Since it was only one in the afternoon, neither were surprised to find the station pretty calm with a few people seated in plastic chairs waiting for whatever news on their loved ones or themselves.

"Mr. Orton." The guys turned at the deep voice to watch a big burly brunette of a man make his way over to them. He was dressed in a charcoal suit, the jacket probably slung over the back of his chair leaving his holster exposed. Though he wasn't smiling, his facial expression wasn't exactly evil either, just a little hardened after all the years of dealing with senseless bullshit.

Randy stepped forward, nodding. "Yeah that's me and this is Dan, John's brother." He waited until the other two men had shaken hands before asking what the hell this was all about.

"Detective Broadman, what's this all about?"

"Well," The detective stepped to his left allowing Randy and Dan to notice the family that had followed him over to them standing just a few feet back. Randy felt like he'd been punched in the chest as he took in their appearance. The father was just another nameless face but the mother and little boy who looked to be around the age of 10 had him paling as he took a step back. If it wasn't for the fact that Dan grabbed his wrist right then he probably would have high-tailed it out of there so fucking fast.

"Randy...you okay?" Dan's voice sounded so far away but that was the least of Randy's worries right now. He really should get a handle on his breathing and stop his legs from swaying before they loaded him up for his own trip back to the hospital.

"Randy, this is the Julien's." Broadman continued as the family in question came to stand next to him. "Looks like you've already made the connection but there's something you don't know."

Randy tore his gaze away from the little boy.

Jesus, if it wasn't for height difference, he'd swear the two could have passed for fucking twins.

He looked back over into the detective's face, thinking already in overdrive, mind slowly putting the pieces of the puzzle together.

"Liam Carter Julien, their son and the same boy who shot John, died Sunday night."

* * *

**A/N2: So, thoughts, opinions, suggestions? Anything and everything is welcome.**


	5. Crossroads

**Title: **Crossroads **  
**

**Rating: **PG-13**  
**

**Summary: **The younger man's laugh was mirthless. "Try shocked, offended, pissed off and just about on the verge of actually committing murder. You're not helping things either with all these questions but you might want to drive."

**Warnings: **None**  
**

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing and no harm is meant. Seriously people, this is _**FICTION**_.

**Beta: **None, all mistakes are mine.

**A/N: So, it's once again been around three months or more since I've updated this and I'm sorry. It's spring break and I'm hoping to be able to get a few more chapters up before college takes back over my life. It's pretty short compared to the others and kind of a defining moment.**

* * *

Walking back to the car, Dan said nothing. He wasn't quite sure what was going through the younger man's head but he knew it couldn't have been anything good.

He unlocked the doors and slipped inside, starting the car while Randy stood by his door just staring out at the streets as dozens of cars raced past not really caring about the fact that they were speeding past the police department. Dan could hear each breath Randy sucked into his lungs, imagining his eyes to look as empty as his face had looked blank after he'd come out of the conference room not five minutes ago.

Bending down, the younger man took his place in the passenger seat, letting the door shut softly behind him. Crossing those tattooed arms in front of his chest, Randy sat there, grey eyes glued to the dashboard, mouth set in a thin line as Dan finally pulled out of the parking lot into the lunch traffic.

The kid was dead. Liam Carter who gives a fuck was dead. Dan could care less how it happened, as far as he was concerned, this should have been good news. The detective should have relayed this message over the phone and let the guys try and resume life as normally as possible considering John would most likely be in therapy for the next six months. Dan couldn't fathom how this would have warranted a thirty minute interrogation with the kids parents while the younger boy, Shelton, innocently glared daggers at him, if that was possible. Unless…

"Randy,"

He received no answer as the younger man continued to stare at nothing and everything at the same time. Randy hadn't moved since he entered the car and to be honest, Dan was a little unnerved by the silence. He couldn't remember a time when Randy wasn't talking and joking around with John, it wasn't the norm.

"Where di-"

"If-"

Randy paused almost as if he knew the sound of his voice was going to jolt Dan. He waited until the older man had his breathing back under control before he continued, tone dropping just a little bit lower. "If you are about to suggest that I was somehow able to find the kid Sunday night in a town I don't know a damn thing about plus murder him out of spite, revenge or just for the hell of it…you might want to backtrack quite a bit."

Gripping the steering wheel tightly, Dan took a calming breath and braced himself for the worse. He only knew of what the televised volatile viper was capable of and didn't need a firsthand encounter with him or the real thing for that matter. "I'm only asking a sim-"

"How about you don't ask or say another damn thing for the rest of the ride, Daniel" For the first time in the ten minute car ride Randy turned to face the older man, unsettling grey eyes brewing a small storm.

Dan didn't want to admit it but the look on Randy's face made his stomach plummet to his feet and his heart beat faster. He didn't have to try very hard to imagine this being the face of a murderer and yet his baby bro was madly in love this same man. Ripping his own gaze away, Dan slowed the car down as a pulled up to a railroad crossing behind several other vehicles as the red lights flashed and arms came down effectively stopping traffic from every direction. He relaxed only when Randy turned away from him, staring up ahead as the ground began to rumble and a high pitched horn rang through the air.

The vibration of the younger man's cell phone could be felt though the seat divider but Randy made no move to answer it or turn it off.

It only took thirty more seconds of silence before Dan cracked.

"Yes or no, did you kill the kid Randy" He spat it out quickly before the other had a third chance to tell him to shut the hell up.

"Dan-"

"I think I have a right to know if my brother is dating a fucking psycho, Randal." Dan quickly cut the younger man off, turning in his seat a small ways to face the other man. It seemed like this train was going to be a long one.

"Yes or no." He demanded once more.

Though he hadn't really expected Randy to answer his question, he definitely hadn't expected the man to start laughing. Strong, full bodied and deep, under any other circumstances, Dan might have found the sound of it intoxicating, however right now it sent a very uncomfortable chill straight down his spine.

"You have a right, you say" Randy let his laughter die down before he turned his own body to face Dan. Cold and calculating, he took in Dan's inability to look him straight in the eye, his eyesight situated right past Randy's right ear. He noticed the white knuckled grip of the left hand on the staring wheel and the way his shoulders held way too much tension for a friendly conversation.

"Alright, well depending on who you ask, you could technically say that yes I did in fact kill the kid. Apparently a kick to ribs from a steel-toed boot does a hell of a lot more damage than I thought. Liam died of complications caused by three broken ribs, a punctured lung and some other internal damage."

He let his words hang in the air as he glanced over at the tracks silently thanking God that those stripped arms were raising themselves, only to curse under his breath a moment later when their stop light remained red allowing the other direction to go first.

"Wait a minute, okay I get…" Dan paused, lifting the cap to scratch his head before replacing it. "I understand his injuries and understand how that could kill him but…..you kicked him on Tuesday yet he died on Sunday. Wouldn't a punctured lung have done him in a lot quicker?"

Randy only shrugged, eyes firmly fixed on the lights up ahead.

"Well are they going to try and press charges?"

Randy briefly entertained the idea of socking Dan in the face to get him to shut up but he didn't exactly care for the number of witnesses his actions would attract. God this light was long.

"No, they knew their son had issues and apologized profusely for his actions." Randy could recall the strong urge to give them a piece of his mind. Maybe their love a couple of years ago would have stopped the kid from having to go out of find attention in dangerous ways. "But since he was a minor, 17 to be exact, the state has decided to pick up the charges."

Dan's blue eyes widened almost comically at Randy's words. "What the fuck? How can they do that?"

"Don't exactly know. They've chosen Second Degree Murder as their best bet but Detective Broadman seems to think any judge will throw it out before things go too far. He says that Manslaughter or a wrongful death suit is the best they will be able to get."

Randy sighed in relief as the light turned green, but Dan wasn't done talking.

"Why don't you seem to care?" Dan hadn't noticed the green shinning dot up ahead but they were far enough back that it didn't exactly matter just yet.

The younger man's laugh was mirthless. "Try shocked, offended, pissed off and just about on the verge of actually committing murder. You're not helping things either with all these questions but you might want to drive."

Dan bit his tongue, stopping his next words as he pressed his foot on the gas, breaking right so he could get on the interstate and continue on back home. They didn't talk; he focused on driving trying to process this new bit of information while Randy pulled out his cell phone. He text back and forth for a little while with whoever had called but that was it.

Pulling off on his exit, Dan stopped at the red light, speaking for the first time in thirty minutes. "I think you should wait till you have some more information bef-.."

Randy didn't wait for him to finish that sentence, he didn't have to. "Nope, I'm telling him as soon as we get back."

"Randy, think about this for a sec-.."

"Think! What the hell do you think I've been doing since we left the damn station?" Randy gestured wildly as he glared at the older man. "Besides if I wait and John finds out another way, he'll be highly pissed off and he just won't need that kind of stress then."

"But it okay to put him through that kind of stress now, at the beginning." Dan returned Randy's glare or at least tried to. He faltered when he noticed that Randy's eyes were no longer grey or blue or whatever the hell color his eyes tended to be. He just knew that those damn irises should not have been black almost.

The light changed to green but before Dan could pull away, Randy's door was opened and slammed shut in less than a second.

"Randy, where the hell are you going?" Dan shouted out the window, watching the retreating back in his rear view window. Randy was getting back on the interstate.

The honking horns and angry shouts reminded him that he was driving and that he probably should continue to do just that. He made a right pulling into the Exxon and throwing the car in park.

"Just great, just fucking great Randal." Murmuring to himself, Dan pulled out his cell phone with the intent to call John and ask him how the hell he was supposed to deal with a temperamental viper but shoved it back into his pocket after deciding against it a second later. It might be better if in fact, Randy did get lost for a little while to blow off some steam before they all sat down and tried to make some sense of this shit. He just hoped the younger man wouldn't go too far and that he had been paying attention all those times John drove them in.

Shifting gears, Dan got back out on the road. Cena household his destination while his mind worked quickly to think up some kind of lie John would believe. It wasn't easy considering he knew very little about the younger man's habits.

"Fuck my life. I'm way too old for this shit."

* * *

**A/N2: So? Questions, thoughts, complaints.**


	6. Bittersweet Homecoming

**Title: **Bittersweet Homecoming **  
**

**Rating: **PG-13**  
**

**Summary: **He looked all of ten, an angel still wearing his halo though he'd already lost his wings.

**Warnings: **None**  
**

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing and no harm is meant. Seriously people, this is _**FICTION**_.

**Beta: **None, all mistakes are mine.

**A/N: Well this one sure appeared a lot quicker than the others, lol. I didn't care for this chapter but it was definitely one that needed to be written and probably should have been written a while ago. So that's enough of me talking, have at it!**

* * *

John couldn't stop the full-fledged smile that broke the moment his father's house appeared through the line of trees. He welcomed the excited, giddy feeling that washed over him as his took in all the cars currently parked in the yard. There had to be at least thirty cars destroying his father's precious grass but he couldn't imagine his old man putting up much of an argument considering the occasion.

Evan had mentioned that everyone was going to be there to greet him and John couldn't wait to see them all. Watching RAW and Smackdown wasn't the same as traveling with the guys every week, nowhere near it. He was also glad to be home in the care of his family though Nurse Ethel would be dropping by for the first few weeks or so to make sure his recovery was going according to plan and that he was in fact attending his appointments with his doctor and therapist.

Pushing those thoughts to the back of his mind, John swallowed the lump in his throat wishing the butterflies would also disappear as Ron pulled the car up as far as he could which was pretty damn close considering. It almost looked as if a path had been created just for him through the metal sea.

Honking the horn to announce their arrival, Ron killed the engine before glancing to his right. John sat in the passenger seat, eyes fixed on the front porch as his hands fidgeted nervously with his ball cap. As if he felt Ron's eyes on him, John turned to look at his friend, nodding briefly before giving him, Matt and Evan a small smile.

He open his door, emptying his lungs with a heavy exhale as he clasped his hands together below his right thigh. Counting to five, he took a deep breath before lifting the leg with a combination of thigh muscle and cupped hands, shifting in the seat so he could place his foot down on the concrete. Once his leg was outside the car, he let go of the breath he was holding, ignoring the dull ache the awkward angle was creating in his spine. That simple movement had him breathing harshly but the exertion couldn't stop him from grinning like a fool especially when he heard his mother's voice calling out to him.

Red faced, John took a deep breath and made to move his left leg but a small hand placed on his shoulder held him back.

"Rest a moment, John." Evan suggested, his chocolate eyes showing a little bit of concern. "Don't lift your leg just yet but bring it closer to the door to relieve some of the pressure."

"Yeah, okay." John nodded, doing as Evan said.

He closed his eyes and leaned to his right letting his head rest against the door frame relishing the warmth of the sun. It took a few moments but once he felt he had his breathing under control and his heart rate had return to normal, he readied his body once more.

Just like with his right, John clasped his hands below his left thigh and took in another deep breath; contracting his muscles, instantly regretting it.

"Ah…fuck" The sharp pain that shot up the back of his thigh and spine was the worst it's been in a while.

"John, John! Are you okay?...Whats wrong?"

John threw his head back, clenching his eyes shut as he ignored the inquiries about his health in favor of biting through his lip. Anything to distract him from the burning.

"Quit biting your lip, John and breathe through the pain, dammit!"

Something in his father's voice struck a chord because for a moment the pain was dulled as John started laughing. He was pretty sure everyone was staring at him as if he'd grown a second head but he couldn't be bothered to care.

"There ya go, if that works for you." His father responded, pretty proud of himself.

As his laughter died away, he felt two large hands lift and move his left thigh to join the other one outside the vehicle. He wanted to protest, wanted to remind everyone he was no longer an invalid but held his tongue.

Opening his eyes, the first person John looked for was Randy but couldn't distinguish him amongst the many faces. The tears in his mother's eyes eventually held his attention, though. He gave her a big smile, dimples on full display while he motioned her over. Hugging him tightly, she kissed his cheek, whispering _Welcome home, Johnny_, before stepping back over to his father. Though they'd been divorced for the past decade, his parents had split on amicable terms. He'd always admired how they never let their own issues with each other get in the way of the family. He loved how when he or one of his brothers needed both, they gladly showed up together.

His father gave him a quick nod in greeting, his own smile present.

"Hurry the hell up Johnny boy, we haven't got all day."

John whipped his head around to face the owner of the voice but before he could say anything, Matt answered for him.

"Shut up, Miz"

The banter that followed made him glad he was home. He wasn't sure the hospital staff would appreciate the language they all tended to use when the whole crew got together.

"…fuck you Matt!"

"Miz, I swe-"

"Hey guys, how about we save it until after the alcohol joins the party, yeah?" Adam's interruption put a halt the faux fight building as all eyes landed back on John who was attempting to stand on his own.

Holding onto the car door along with the frame, John pushed down and prayed his legs wouldn't buckle under the weight. Straightening his back, he let his arms drop down to his side elated when it looked as if they were going to hold. He snubbed the fire building in his left thigh in favor of smirking at his family and friends.

"Good job, old man. Now take a step."

"Miz, if you don't shut the hell up, I sw-"

Shaking his head, John tuned out the guys, thankful and a little bit surprised when a wheelchair appeared off to his right, his brother Sean as its driver. Locking eyes with his baby brother, he thanked him because though he wanted to walk, he was sure he wouldn't get too far before both legs gave out below him. Sitting down, John relaxed, chuckling as he noticed Miz, Alex, Evan and Matt were still going at it.

He closed his eyes as Sean began to push him, listening to the rest of the guys along with the divas and a few other childhood friends welcome him home as he rode past. All he wanted to do at the moment was sleep for a couple months but something was bugging him.

"Where are Randy and Dan?"

If he noticed how the bickering suddenly stopped or the quiet gasp Maryse emitted, he didn't comment granted he was half-asleep.

Everyone shared a look, none of them really wanting to be the one to lie to John but knew they couldn't tell him the truth either. Cody lied.

"They went to go pick up some extra food and drinks."

"Hmm.."

When John said nothing more on the subject, everyone released a sigh of relief, falling in line behind Sean as he neared the house. That disaster would be held off for at least another couple of hours it seemed.

John Sr. watched as Sean pushed John up the newly built ramp before turning back to their mother.

"Where in the hell could they be?"

**Cena's Viper**

It was the yelling that woke John. Muffled voices that sounded as if they were right outside his door continued to rise though he couldn't make out any of the words.

He groaned as he opened his eyes, instantly shutting them to block out the blinding sunlight coming through his window. Raising a hand to rub at his left temple, John tried to will away the sweet throb currently taking up residence.

"You just let him walk away, why didn't y-"

"What the fuck was I supposed to do, dad? Do you really think I could have manhandled the son of a bitch back into the car, forget the fact that we were in traf-"

John turned over his upper half, confused by the little snippet of conversation he was able to hear. His stomach choose that moment to remind him that he'd skipped breakfast and probably missed lunch too plus the extra pressure on his bladder informed him that mother nature needed attending to.

Grimacing, he sat himself up against the headboard not really in the mood to coax or drag his legs over the side of his bed where he noticed his walker was waiting on him. Though he wouldn't admit it out loud, right about now, John wished he still had the catheter.

Mentally preparing himself, John took a few deep breaths before repeating his actions from a few hours ago, minus the sharp bolt of pain up his spine. He allowed his arms to hold all of his weight as he leaned on the walker catching his breath before he attempted to shuffle his way to the hallway bathroom.

"Randy, you bastard, answer your damn phone."

John faltered at Dan's words, breathe hitching at the implication. Randy wasn't here.

"Da-" His voice cracked from disuse prompting him to swallow a few times to wet his throat before he tried calling out again.

"Dan"

Seconds later his door was opened and Dan peaked around the wood, closing his phone as he took in John's appearance. He still looked tired even though apparently he'd had been sleeping for the last three hours. When he noticed John's arms slightly trembling he grew concerned.

"How long have you been up and standing like that?"

"Couple of minutes. Why won't," John paused to wet his chapped lips before fixing his brother with a puzzled glare. "Why won't Randy answer his phone?"

It happened so quickly that John questioned whether or not Dan's eyes really changed. The coldness that seeped into those baby blues at the mention of Randy was so unlike his brother, John eventually chalked it up to his headache but that didn't stop him from observing the hesitation.

"Why…Why don't you go freshen up a little bit and I'll go t-"

"Dan, quit stalling and answer my question. Is Randy hurt or in trouble?"

"…tell Mom and everyone that you're up." Dan finished as if he hadn't heard his baby brother. He shut the door just as John began to curse him.

"Hurt my ass," Dan muttered as he walked down the hallway and started descending the stairs. "But oh hell yes, he is in trouble."

Entering the living room, Dan bade the first two guys he saw. "Hey Kofi, Morrison, John is going to need help down the stairs in just a few minutes." At their nod he continued on his way into the kitchen absently wondering as to why and how they got the big guy up the stairs in the first place.

**Cena's Viper**

"Dan! Where the fuck is Dan?"

John's voice floated into the kitchen where said man blanched at the anger in the younger man's tone. He braced himself for the worse, reminding himself that he'd done nothing wrong, Randy had gotten out of the car on his own free will and everything that happened from here on out was his own fault.

Yeah, right.

He hadn't expected John to wheel into the kitchen but it eased some of his guilt. At least John wouldn't be on the verge of collapsing from holding himself up during their fight.

"What were you and dad yelling about earlier and why won't Randy answer his phone, Daniel."

Swallowing slowly, Dan chose his words carefully. He wasn't guilty; all he had to do was tell the truth.

"Well….Randy won't answer his phone because…..he's blowing off steam. I can't really tell you wh-"

"Bullshit" John snapped, stopping his chair directly in front of Dan preventing any attempts at escaping that he might be thinking of. His baby blues were just as cold as Dan's had been earlier for that brief second.

Dan glanced around the kitchen, realizing that while no one was outright paying them any attention, everyone was waiting for him to answer as if he held the true meaning of life. Their mom was stirring something on the stove, his dad was pretending to read the paper and he could just make out the shadow of several bodies standing in the door way. At least he had witnesses.

"Honestly, John" Dan tried to speak in as calm a tone as he could muster. "I can't tell you what I don't know or understand my damn self. I had to take him to get some news he wasn't particularly fond of and on the way back I kind of pissed him off with some questions and he got out of the car on the intersta-"

"You fucking left him out there knowing he doesn't know a damn thing about Massa-"

"I didn't leave him any fucking where, John." Dan was getting tired of being accused as the horrible babysitter who lost the kid. "Randy got out of the damn car by his own choice and chose to play on the fucking interstate by his damn self!"

"But you did nothing to stop him"

At John's outburst, Dan had had it. He pushed the wheelchair back hard enough to create some room between them but not hard enough to send the younger man flying across the room even if he wanted to.

"Take some pain medication and eat something, John. Then come talk to me because I won't be blamed for his bitch fit."

Before John could respond, the patio door was slammed shut as Daniel left.

**Cena's Viper**

Headlights lit up the darkened living room, waking those who'd fallen asleep during the movie and ruining the good mood of those who happened to be enjoying the film.

The TV was turned off as white light flooded the room eliciting groans from all the occupants. John unlocked the wheels on his chair, sitting up straight as he wiped the dried up sleep from his eyes. He'd passed out just a little after the movie started, his protesting mind finally overpowered by his exhausted body.

The confrontation surrounding Dan and Randy had been pushed to the back burner and John's phone was taken away after dialing his tattooed lover's number for the fifth time per Momma Cena's orders. A plate of barbecue, a glass of ice tea and bottle of pills replaced the electronic device as he was enveloped by family and friends intent on making him forget for just a little while.

Now with said confrontation just outside that door, he really wished Evan hadn't scolded him into feeling guilty when his brother Matt had placed that glass of jack down in front of him. The little guy had claimed that mixing pain killers and alcohol was a dangerous cocktail, and then removed the glass from his possession as he passed it on the Ted. John, however, was willing to bet his bottom dollar that a sober Randy would not walk through that door.

Bodies began to crawl over other bodies in order to find their designated sleeping area or gather up their belongings so they could get back to the hotel. It was agreed upon earlier that everyone would leave out the kitchen door when and if Randy came back so as not to disturb the impending conversation.

John said his goodbye's and gave out hugs, flipping Hunter the bird as he called out _Night, Princess._

Laughing as a few of the divas complained about not being able to watch Randy get chewed out, he began to wheel himself into the foyer, stopping just to the left of the stairs. There would be no way Randy could overlook him as he would have to walk right passed him in order to climb the stairs.

His mother kissed his cheek before locking the kitchen door.

"Night, Johnny."

"Night, Momma"

He could tell she wanted to say something more but she only smiled before walking down the hall to retire herself.

Her door shut just as the front door opened.

"Hey," Randy greeted him as he closed the door behind him. "Shouldn't you be in bed?"

Though he knows he shouldn't, John relaxes, exhaling slowly as he let Randy's voice soothe his nerves. His words were clear and distinct, tone surprisingly calm for a man keeping a mighty big secret.

"Yeah, but" John paused, wetting his lips as he picked over his own words. "We need to talk about your….choice of playgrounds."

John grinned as Randy began to chuckle, running his hands over his shorn head. "Playgrounds, huh? So it's safe to say Dan told you then?"

"No, not everything."

Nodding, Randy dropped his gaze to the tile floor. Though he'd been the one to tell Dan that John needed to be told as soon as possible, he wasn't sure if he could. Thinking about seeing John in a wheelchair or using the walker was one thing but actually seeing the older man like that was something entirely different. He couldn't help but feel guilty, like he'd been the one holding the gun.

It sounded ridiculous, but with all the time they spent together he'd always kind of felt as if it was his responsibility to protect John from harm's way. Kind of like a silent promise to himself. It truly didn't help matters that he felt like he failed not only as a friend but as a lover also.

Shaking those thoughts from his mind, Randy glanced back up at the other man, locking eyes with his favorite baby blues. They were guarded and that realization alone was enough to make him feel short of breath as if someone had punched him in the gut.

"How…How about we take this into the living room. The foyer isn't exactly the place to tell you I might be a wanted man."

Randy held up his hand stopping John from commenting as his eyes widened almost comically, his mouth imitating a fish.

"Living room" Randy repeated, narrowing his gaze at the flash of defiance that crossed John's face.

Following closely behind the chair, Randy removed his jacket, laying it across the back of the couch before settling down at one end. He briefly thought about pouring himself a glass of something dark but dismissed it, watching, secretly pleased, as John wheeled just to the right of him and locked his wheels. Randy considered offering help but bit his tongue, not wanting to upset his lover any more than necessary.

Grunting as he hefted himself up on onto the couch, John winced at the strain in his arms. It took a few moments but he was finally able to situate his body so his head was lying in Randy's lap, his legs stretching the length of the couch. Ignoring the younger man's grin, John smirked, quite proud of himself he was. He relaxed, closing his eyes as one tattooed arm found its way down the front of his shirt, fingers softly caressing his abs while the other hand gently carded through his hair.

"Comfy?"

"Hmm…"

He figured John must have been a hell of a lot tired then he was letting on since neither of them like to show much of their vulnerable side even with each other. His hair was just a little bit damp, his face unusually pale under the lamp light though that was kind of becoming the norm. He looked all of ten, an angel still wearing his halo though he'd already lost his wings.

"So…Liam Julien Carter is dead." Randy paused, registering the way John's body tensed before continuing. "He died Sunday night from complications of a few broken ribs, a punctured lung and some other shit."

There was a long pause where only the ticking of the hallway clock could be heard. Randy faintly registered the sound of someone moving around upstairs but didn't think too much into it. Even if someone wasn't eavesdropping, they'd all hear about his predicament soon enough.

He was just about to ask if John had heard him though he wouldn't have been surprised if the older man had already nodded off, when John finally spoke.

"Okay," He still hadn't opened his eyes and his voice was devoid of any emotion. "So what does that have to do with you, Randy?"

Randy swallowed heavily before answering. He never did like being backed into a corner.

"After he shot you, I um….I sort of lost it. I didn't think I'd done that much damage considering I only kicked him bu-"

"With your steel-toed boots?" John interrupted him, finally opening his eyes but they were once again guarded.

Randy was slow to respond trying to gauge John's reaction beforehand. "Yes"

"And now his parents want to press charges?"

"No, the um..your wonderful state of Massachusetts wants to press charges since he was a minor and they're looking at Second Degree Murder."

"What the fuck….they can't do that can they?" Those baby blues were now blazing with anger as he glared up at Randy but not really at him. "Second fucking Degree, isn't that a bit much?"

"Yes, apparently they can but Detective Broadman says any judge in his or her right mind will throw the case out. Nothings set in stone just yet, though. According to Broadman, this is just a rumor going around the station but as soon as something concrete comes his way, he'll let me know."

"So there's not a warrant out for your arrest or any nasty surprises like that waiting for you. I mean, can you even leave the state or should you stay put?"

"No, no warrants," Randy chuckled. "And I hadn't really planned on leaving the state for a little while but I can ask Broadman tomorrow if you like." He stretched out his legs, crossing them at the ankles as he continued his ministrations. He figured in about another ten minutes, John would be down for the count as he was beginning to slur his words.

A mighty large yawn cut off whatever John was about to say causing Randy to yawn himself, interrupting his smile. It did nothing, however, to stop him from thinking _how cute_, though he'd never admit that thought. John would kill him for sure.

"What about Alanna?" John tried again as his eye lids drooped dangerously low, his baby blues beginning to glaze over. "I thought this was your weekend to have her, you sh-"

"Sam is flying out her with her tomorrow." Randy cut him off and pulled his arm out of John's shirt about ready to move them to John's bedroom. "I talked to them on the phone yesterday; Sam says _hi_ by the way." He couldn't help but smirk before continuing. "Alanna can't wait to see her _naked baby_."

"Ha Ha" John deadpanned, shoving his elbow into Randy's abs. "So what now, Randy? I mean even if the state doesn't press charges, word will get around in the news and you'll be labeled a murder."

The light-hearted feeling disappeared from the room as a serious undertone took its place.

"Where does that place you in respect to your career, your family, hell, even me?"

"John, I don't….I can't…" Randy was at a loss for words cause he really hadn't thought that far ahead. John was always the one with plans thought out well in advance while Randy acted on impulse. This time though, his consequence was going to be more than just a slap on the hand or a sixty day suspension. But as he stared back down into a pair of concerned and foggy baby blues, Randy realized that as long as John didn't turn his back on him since he knew Sam would never keep him away from his daughter; so as long as his lover didn't leave him high and dry when the younger man needed him most, the world could once again go fuck itself.

He finally shrugged, lightly tracing the scar on his lover's neck. "I'll just have to wait until that moment comes, I guess. My reaction will depend on the rest of the world's reaction. They could shun me or they could say whatever, Mchanon included."

"And my dad and brothers?" John asked, eyes closed with a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

Randy snorted as he reached for John's chair, pulling it closer to him so he could help the other man into it. "No comment, but how about we move this wonderful conversation upstairs to a comfortable bed, yeah?"

Smirking as he yawned, John folded his arms over his chest. "Nope. I'm comfy enough right here."

"You can't be serious….John….John Felix Anthony!"

John gave no reply, feigning sleep with unnecessarily loud snores.

Randy began muttering under his breath as he moved the chair once again so he could pull his legs up on the couch. One of his tattooed arm reached over to turn off the lamp before he gently lifted the John's head, ignoring the self-righteous grin gracing the older man's face as he positioned himself so that he was lying on the outside spooning up against his lover's back. Randy then placed one arm under his own head and wrapped the other around John's waist holding him securely to his chest.

"Right bastard"

"Yeah, but you love me." John mumbled sleepily, entwining his fingers with Randy's.

Brushing his lips over the hair in front of him in a barely there kiss, Randy closed his grey eyes praying sleep would claim him so he could forget about the hell this past week has been if only just for a little while.

* * *

**A/N2: Thoughts, questions, complaints?**


End file.
